


"take my seat."

by clickingkeyboards



Series: one hundred ways to say 'i love you' [8]
Category: Murder Most Unladylike Series - Robin Stevens
Genre: Awkwardness, Coffee Shops, Exasperated Hazel, F/F, Fluff, Requited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-08
Updated: 2019-11-08
Packaged: 2021-01-26 09:13:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,194
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21371710
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clickingkeyboards/pseuds/clickingkeyboards
Summary: Hazel and Daisy are eating cake in a London tearoom on their return from the seaside when they are surprised by the cheery and quick-to-compliment Amina El Maghrabi. Daisy soon transforms from a detective into a flustered mess, the way she berates her best friend for behaving around Alexander Arcady.It takes Hazel a surprisingly long time to figure out why.Modern AUWritten for the eighth prompt in the '100 ways to say "I love you"' prompt list by p0ck3tf0x on Tumblr.
Relationships: Daisy Wells/Amina El Maghrabi
Series: one hundred ways to say 'i love you' [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1533164
Comments: 1
Kudos: 16





	"take my seat."

It is London, somewhere you do not expect to see Deepdean girls. Yet, here one is.

We have just come back from our seaside holiday with the boys (we cannot seem to escape murder) and the two of us are taking tea in a London tearoom to go over the facts of the case.

“You would have been  _ so _ much sharper if the boys weren’t there!” Daisy complains in her Daisy-ish way. “You spent half the time staring at Alexander’s muscles.”

She is not lying. It is not my fault Alexander is such a dish. Even if he did end up rather pink and sunburnt on the back of his neck by the end of the holiday. George spent the entire holiday being stared at for all of his dark skin, while I felt awfully exposed and shivering and  _ big _ . Daisy looked blonde and pretty and  _ shapely _ for the entire holiday, while Alexander was toned and tall and sure of himself, diving and running and leaping while drenched wet, his bathing suit stuck to his skin. 

“So what if I did? I was perfectly helpful.”

“You could have done a lot better if he wasn’t there being  _ Alexander  _ and distracting you! And furthermore—”

“I say! Daisy Wells! Hazel Wong!”

I don’t recognise the voice immediately but it comes from over my shoulder, and Daisy looks up to lock eyes with someone standing over at the door. “Oh… hello.”

Daisy is acting like she did at The Rue. I turn my head, expecting to see Martia Torerra. Instead, I see Amina El Maghrabi, wearing a lovely dress and her hair done up much too fancy for a coffee shop.

Suddenly, Daisy has moved from her elbows propped on the table and her feet resting on my chair to sitting with her legs crossed and her hands in her lap.

“It’s wonderful to see you!” Amina trills out, crossing the coffee shop towards us and holding onto the back of my chair with one hand. “Oh, Hazel! You’ve caught the sun. And you’ve grown some, I fancy. And what a  _ nice _ necklace.”

I put a hand on it, smiling. Despite last term, I do like Amina. She is infectiously happy, elated at all and sundry with joy to spare. “Thank you, Amina! My… my friend Alexander got it for me. I like your dress, really I do.”

“Ooh, who is this  _ Alexander _ ?” she teases, pushing lightly at my shoulder. “And thank you.”

“Honest, he’s just a friend,” I say, burning. “Though I’m sure Daisy would disagree.

This snaps Amina’s attention over to her. “ _ Daisy _ ! Wow, you’re… the seaside did you good! I read in the papers as soon as I arrived over here. You were wonderful at the seaside, I would never have guessed such a thing. Your dress is lovely, you look  _ very  _ adult! And your hair…”

She reaches to brush a little at Daisy’s blonde curls, and Daisy does not flinch. I am shocked: I am the only person she does not mind going near her hair when not doing it up, she even swatted at Uncle Felix this morning.

“Thank you, Amina,” she replies, a little breathless. “Hazel is right, you look lovely. Especially your face.” She goes red up her neck and is forced to tack on an awkward ending. “I mean, the tan. Egypt did you some good, I see. And your hair, it’s done up very pretty for just a visit to a tea room.”

“Well, I am going to the theatre this evening but I’m going to be out until then so I thought I would save myself going back to where I’m staying by dressing up now,” she says, dropping a joking curtsey. “And,  _ thank you _ , Daisy. Really.”

“Where are you staying?” I ask, setting down my fork. “Aren’t your parents in Egypt?”

With a nod, she agrees. “They are! I’m staying with a temporary governess until school begins again. It’s been delightful, if a little suffocating. I suppose I will have to go back there now.”

“Stay with us.”

I look at Daisy as if she has grown another head.  _ What? _ We are talking about Detective Society business, the sort that she doesn’t let Alexander or George in on, the sort she won’t even let our assistants (Beanie, Kitty, Lavinia, and dear Ah Lan who writes to me frequently now) hear. The only non-Detective Society member she has ever wanted to include (but couldn’t because she was a suspect in that case) was Martia from The Rue.

_ What  _ is going on?

Amina looks genuinely sorrowful to refuse. “I would stay for tea with you but there doesn’t seem to be any chairs…”

“Take my seat,” Daisy says in a hurry, standing and brushing down her dress. “I can go and see if I can procure a chair from the seating outside.”

With that, she hurries off.

Looking after Daisy as she goes with an odd look, Amina takes a long moment before she sits. “Hazel,” she says, “forgive me for asking such an imprudent and rude question but I must. I heard a lot about Daisy — and  _ you _ , of course — when you weren’t at Deepdean. How I have met you… Daisy is very different. When I ask others, they say she has not changed, but she acts oh-so-odd around me. Flustered, stuttering…  _ normal _ . And I can  _ tell _ that Daisy is not a silly and normal girl. Neither are you, obviously, but Daisy is different in…” Amina flourishes her hands outwards. “...in more of a way that demands to be noticed. Yet she has changed recently. In the last few weeks of school, and  _ now _ . What is… nevermind. And Clementine said… but nevermind mind all that.”

She is stammering her way around the question in a way that frustrates me, so I cut in with my own. “Amina,” I interrupt, “I apologise for jumping in like that but I must know. Do you… what do you think about girls who like other girls. As in, as  _ more _ than a pash? In the way I like boys?”

The question startles her, so much that she rocks back in her chair with wide eyes. “I… I support them, of course. There’s… I don’t believe in God so why would I have an opinion against them?”

“Good.” With a smile that I hope is comforting, I add, “If you’re worried or wondering, I support them too. Now, what was your question?”

“Is Daisy…” She clears her throat. “Is Daisy  _ like that _ ?”

I answer her question with one of my own. “Are  _ you _ ?”

“Yes,” she answers, a brutal honesty I was not expecting. It seems that she didn’t expect it either, as she clasps her hands over her mouth with a soft gasp. “I… I mean…”

“Then yes,” I reply without hesitation. “She is. And I dare say she likes you too.”

“ _ Really? _ ” Then she remembers herself. “I mean…  _ too _ ? Where did you get that idea from?”

As Daisy walks back through the front door with a clearly charmed waiter carrying a chair for her, I smile at Amina in a way that is almost Daisy-ish. “I am a detective too, Amina.”


End file.
